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Long Days.

Two days, three days. And I cannot cope.
Three days. Less, probably, and I have no hope.
Oh, I can fool in the snow with the best of them
In a snatched minute - but what of the rest of them?
The cruel sixty that crawl their way to an hour
In twenty-four battalions of infinite power.
And how many more? Days, weeks? What shall I do?
What can I think of, if I can't think of you?
My future seems a distant, far-off dream
How I long to wake myself up with a scream!
My thoughts are tattered, all reason slain
That I still love, when love is bound with pain.
If I can't have you, I don't want anything.
Won't you still come to my window, sparrow, and sing?
This poor heart melts and freezes like the snow
Trodden hard and flat; and now I cannot know
What I can bear to be; desire stands stale
My ambitions all sickly, sad, and pale
I rather think that soon I will relieve
Myself of this, and someone else can grieve
They'll weep for the pot that called the kettle
And you can scatter my grave with rose petals
Will they be yellow? I'd rather have red
Make a halo of scarlet around my head
I'll breathe my last for you; a longing sigh.
Now power your earth on, Olympus-high.

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Comments


  • Giovanna Corvis
    February 7, 2009

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    Oh, holy god this was amazing!!

    I haven't asked anyone this in a long tim but, when I find a poem I really like I ask the poet if I may print it off and hang it on my bedroom wall. You see, I have poems, short stories, pictures, all sorts of things on my bedroom wall. You can hardly see the paint, I use it as both decoratin and inspiration. When I need an idea I just pick a spot and read or look. Mind you, I don't copy, I'm against plagarism with every cell in my body. And I ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS put the poet's/photographer's/artist's/author's name on it.

    May I print this off for my wall


  • Melodies
    February 7, 2009

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    Well said, good Poet. Your tender poem reaches me on a sigh and I have put it in my mind as a sweet thing to contemplate. Your writing always impresses me, and whether it makes me glad or sad, I love your penning.